Words on the Train
by ColdCoffee123
Summary: Actions speak louder than words - from what you can see, anyway.
1. Chapter 1

**This isn't necessarily Christmas themed (it may eventually link), but I felt motivated to write something now I have some free time. This will be somewhat fast-paced and won't have a tonne of chapters unlike some of my other work. It's a bit different in terms of work I've read in general regardless of the platform it's on, so I'm excited to see how people respond! **

**Let me know your views! **

* * *

_Fuck_, she thinks to herself as the pace of her walk transpires into a light jog, eventually turning into more of a sprint. Descending the steps of the subway staircase, the brunette just about manages to keep her light brown satchel from flying off her shoulder as she races along the side of the bannister while dodging those taking a leisurely stroll. Her breath stalls upon reaching the bottom; the sight of a large queue at the turnstiles proves to further shove her frustration in her face, and by the time she reaches the other side and reaches her platform, things don't seem to improve. It's not an unfamiliar sight; the 7:30 am train seems to be one of the most popular, and although she made it with one minute to spare, she's not entirely sure if she's even going to make it onto the train.

The crowd of people fuel her annoyance. Once the transport arrives, it's a mass shuffle towards the doors, and although she just about manages to find a space that allows her to board, a part of her wishes she hadn't bothered. The train is packed with daily commuters, and although it's not an unfamiliar sight to be surrounded by this many people in the morning, the uncomfortable nature of standing up against strangers for the best of 20 minutes is never how she wishes to start her day.

Turning her body to the side so that her back rests against the glass partition, the brunette slides her right hand into the front compartment of her bag. _Fuck_, she again internally retorts; this is the 3rd time this month she'd forgotten her headphones, and although it's not the end of the world, she'd much rather listen to _anything_ other than the sound of the two men in suits to her right arguing about the stock exchange figures, or the sound of the screaming baby further down the carriage; the cynical part of her scalds the woman gripping tightly onto the child's buggy that's taking up space that could fit at least another 2 people, but her moral compass soon corrects her thoughts: _every one has to get somewhere_.

Although under less than ideal circumstances, the brunette resorts to people watching. It's a past time she usually enjoys, but with her travel mug of coffee still sitting on the kitchen counter and her headphones still resting in the bowl by the front door, the thought of doing anything other than getting off at the next stop and heading back home isn't exactly appealing.

Despite her above average height, it doesn't give her much of an advantage to observe all of her surroundings. The woman opposite her stands holding the hand of her small child - giving some form of eye-line for the brunette to work with, but other than the sight of the backs of people's heads, there isn't anything worth noting down. As the next stop approaches, some sort of path of vision is created, giving her more room to work with. Again, nothing immediately sticks out - some people are seated with headphones in while others are talking to the person next to them. Looking diagonally along at the people standing up, she sees a pair of hands holding a book - which one, she can't tell, and as she shuffles on the spot, she manages to catch sight of a familiar head of blonde hair belonging to a woman she recognises as a regular on the train. It had always been a quick glance on her part - acknowledging that the woman also gets on at the same stop as herself, but she also did that with the man sitting in the third seat on the right trying his best to keep his elbows to himself as he reads the paper, and the woman standing a few people along from her trying her best to not loose her grip on the metal pole keeping her upright.

The woman, she notes, looks transfixed with whatever she's reading, and although the brunette feels a flood of jealously run through her at the fact that this stranger was more competent than herself in bringing some form of entertainment for the journey, it soon subsides when she observes the woman's head shoot up, searching for the voice communicating with her. She can't hear the conversation considering the blonde is on the other diagonal side of the carriage, but given the fact that the doors on the right are soon to open and a man in a suit seems to be trying to squeeze past her, the brunette gives a good guess. She watches the blonde offer some sort of verbal response - an apology, she guesses, before squeezing away in the opposite direction of the man, managing to find a space that keeps her out of the way of anyone else wishing to get off the train.

The brunette catches a further glimpse of the book the blonde is holding, but despite not being able to see the title, she doesn't recognise the author's name at the bottom - an indication that regardless of knowing what it is called, she personally hasn't given it a read. Craving for something to happen, the brunette looks away, seeing if there's anything else worth noting in her surroundings, but in seeing nothing worth her attention, she turns her head back towards the right corner of the carriage - this time, her inquisitive eyes are met. She observes the blonde woman who had been reading now looking her way, book still held open in her right hand while her left grips onto a nearby pole for balance. The brunette offers no physical display of emotion - choosing to see if anything further happens; other than the blonde woman's eyes immediately snapping back down to her book, turning her body slightly as though to try and disguise that she had been looking, nothing ever does. Failing to hold back a smirk, the brunette lets her eyes linger another few seconds before her attention is drawn out by the feeling of something vibrating in her pocket. Retrieving the device, she reads an email from one of her colleagues about a meeting they're due to have later that day. Without so much as looking back up, the rest of the brunette's journey is taken over by a focus on the contents of the screen before her, blocking out the sound of the busy train along with the chance of witnessing any wandering eyes glancing her way.

* * *

Her morning journey seems to follow the same routine for the next few weeks, and although she more consistently remembered to bring all of her belongings, the mass of people at the station waiting to board the train never seemed to cease. She finds herself keeping an eye out for any interesting activity in the carriage, but so far, her sight only seems to land on a familiar blonde across the way, always with that same book in hand. It's a lengthy read, she notes - one that would perhaps take even her the best of a few months to get through if it was solely her commute material. Their eye contact has become more frequent - almost as though there's a mutual recognition that they both get the same subway everyday and tend to stand in the same spot. Although the brunette tends to find that their silent dialogue makes the start of her day feel less stressful, she'd be lying to herself if she said it made her enjoy the journey itself - that was still a problem. That's why, the following Monday, the brunette does something she'd pondered for quite some time. She gets up a bit earlier, drives the 10 minute journey to the station before her regular one, and gets on the train earlier. The carriages aren't so busy and she finds that the station is no where near as popular as her usual one. She manages to get a seat in the middle of the carriage and soon concludes that getting up half an hour earlier is worth cutting out the inevitable hassle of her morning journey.

The 10 minutes it takes for the train to reach her regular stop flies by, and soon the expected flood of people fills all available space, leaving her feeling thankful that she is seated and not standing. Her mind immediately flies to her non-verbal train companion, wondering if she's standing in her usual spot; the angle of where she's seating prevents her from getting a clear view. After not-so-patiently scanning her eyes over the area while fiddling with the white cord of her headphones, the movement of several people getting off at the next stop allows for her to take a peak. As expected, she sees the blonde woman standing in her usual spot, book in hand. The closer proximity allows her to get a better view of what she's wearing; a smart business-like dress adorns her body and is covered with a beige trench coat. It doesn't reveal anything in regard to what her profession may be, however, causing more questions to form in the brunette's head. She observes the blonde's head rise from where it was buried in her book and look over at the diagonal side of the carriage, all the while swaying slightly as she rises onto her tiptoes. The corners of the brunette's lips rise in a sly manner as she realises the blonde was straining her neck to look and see if she was in her usual spot. A part of her is pleased - thrilled, even - that she seems to have made a companion in such a peculiar manner, but she also feels an element of guilt at the sunken way in which the blonde lands back on her heels while her vision remains trained in front of her in a daydream-like fashion; the words on the page in front of her forgotten.

This is the part she hadn't planned for: how she was going to get off the train and onto the platform. Sitting in the middle gives her a few options, but the greater part of her wants to go to the door diagonal towards the left of where she's seating, letting the unknown blonde see that she's been in the same carriage all along. Thoughts of a plan soon fly out the window as upon standing up, the brunette has no choice but to follow the several other people also getting off at her stop that head to the door on the right hand side of the carriage.

Stepping off the train is somewhat like a breath of fresh air - the feeling she generally craves as soon as she steps into the carriage to begin with, but this time she finds herself turning around to take a peak into the window, almost as though covering her tracks. It's instead the sight she sees that now catches her breath, making her momentarily stunned as her eyes are again met by a familiar blonde - except this time, her lips sealed in a smile, refusing to look away. The jolt of the train starting to move causes her head to bob forwards, but doesn't break the contact. The carriage soon passes by and the brunette is left standing on the platform surrounded by other commuters trying to go about their day. Adjusting the strap of her bag, she clears her throat as though she was preparing to deliver a speech, all the while forcing her feet to start moving again.

She doesn't find herself thinking back to that moment until she's travelling back home several hours later, and although she pins it down to probably being nothing more than a friendly encounter, the brunette can't help but smile to herself as she sits alone in a near empty carriage, wondering if the same will thing happen again any time soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**I know I have other stories. I'm aware they're not finished... they will be. It's hard to continue some things when you crave to be creative in other ways.**

* * *

While seated with her headphones in, the brunette glances around the carriage. It's been a week since she last saw her silent blonde companion, and even though she doesn't know a single thing about the other woman, she's curious. Where is she? Was she just visiting town for a couple of months? Did she scare her off?

The journey begins in a regularly boring manner, only to unexpectedly grow in excitement. While the latest podcast she's listening to plays through her ear, the brunette's eyebrows perk up as she observes movement at the opening door through the glass opposite where she's standing. She watches 7 or 8 people step onto the platform followed by a few getting on in the opposing direction. Her eyes widen as she spots the familiar book-obsessed blonde, but soon they turn confused at the sight of her adjusting the handle of the small, navy suitcase she's carrying in tow.

She looks different, the brunette concludes - more… frantic - stressed, perhaps, and if that wasn't already evident, the sight of the blonde throwing her head back when she finally settles into a spot and let out a shoulder-deflating sigh all but confirms her suspicions. _Ah, so it's one of those mornings, is it?_, the brunette thinks to herself, understanding that display from a mile away. Throughout the journey, the blonde doesn't look her way. In fact, she doesn't look up at all. Her hands hold a device rather than a book, and from the rapid movement of her thumbs, the brunette guesses she's caught up in some form of conversation.

The final glance she takes before taking a step off the train does nothing to persuade the blonde's subconscious to as much as look up. It leaves her in a state of confusion. She knows nothing about this woman, but at the same time feels as though she does. It's a thought that follows her throughout her day all the way to the next morning, except this time there's no fleeting glances, no book reading, and no smiling blonde.

Throughout the first few days it was an unsettling thought. The brunette wanted to know more about the blonde - she still does, but now it seems as though she won't get the chance. It's not something she dwells on, however; realism is something she believes in. One thing the blonde does leave imprinted on her is the idea of reading when travelling in the mornings. She'd grown curious as to what it was that had grabbed the woman's attention on a daily basis, and although it's not a read she could find anywhere, she went for the second best thing and brought the latest murder mystery that was living on her shelf.

It's not until the following Tuesday that the brunette scalds herself for not checking the morning's travel news; a station a long the line was closed, meaning her regular, quaint platform was much busier than expected. Sure, it wasn't as bad as what she used to experience, but it meant upon boarding, there were no seats left. She clenches her jaw at the thought of reading the second half of the book that she's finding more gripping than she's willing to admit while standing up, so instead she reaches into her satchel for her headphones. As she goes to place the remaining right bud into her ear, the brunette pauses. Her eyes meet a familiar set from across the way; sitting down - in what she now considers as her regular seat - is the blonde lady she had sent an internal search part for. If she looked different the last time, she looks even more different now. Her eyes - the colour, she still can't quite work out from afar, are covered with a pair of round tortoise shell glasses - for reading she gathers; her hair is cut into a short bob, and her body is styled in a white shirt with black trousers and matching heels. The brunette admires the blonde's image; she finds her attractive - she has done since she first laid eyes on her, but now it all seems more _real_ almost. Like she's allowed to find her attractive all of a sudden without dismissing her thoughts.

Again, the blonde has a book in her hand, except this time, it's different. The front cover is now a bright orange, and if she were correct in her guess, the brunette assumes it's some sort of book on lifestyle and motivation. She watches the blonde deliver a raised eyebrow, which causes her to smile in return. She imagines the blonde is aware of where she's sitting, and although it would make her mad if it were anyone else, she doesn't seem to care. What affects her more is the way the blonde is looking at her over the edge of her glasses that have slightly slipped down her nose. She can't quite put her finger on it, but after they both share a final quick smile - the brunette letting out a light huff of air through her nose at the comical version of events, the blonde's eyes travel back down to her book that is resting on her lap. The brunette, meanwhile, puts her earphone in place before taking out her phone and clicking play on her podcast.

* * *

Days turn into weeks, and every time's more and more enthralling. It's almost become a competition between the pair of them - who can get to the seat first, and although the brunette finds herself winning the majority of the time, she can't help but wonder how every now and again the blonde beats her to it. It's ridiculous considering they've never spoken to each other, but a part of her _enjoys_ the lack of communication. There's no pressure to act a particular way or say a particular thing - only to turn up.

On one particular occasion, the brunette manages to bag herself a seat - not her usual one, but one further down the carriage. It gives her a perfect view of the - again - reading blonde, except unlike before, she doesn't feel guilty for not yet being seen. At every stop, she observes the blonde looking around the carriage, attempting to look between the gaps created in the crowd of people, only to return back to the pages in front of her.

What happens next is out of routine, however. The next stop - still a couple down from where the brunette normally gets off, the blonde stands from her seat and exits to the platform. With curious eyes, the brunette follows the movement of the blonde, assessing the way she double-checks the zip of her bag before looking forwards with a toothy smile. She only catches a glimpse of her white teeth, but she doesn't find it surprising that they seemed to fit the woman's attractive aesthetic. Finally, she sees the blonde widen her arms as she starts moving forwards and pulls a larger man into a hug. The man - as well as the blonde - seems pleased to see the another; although the brunette can't quite work out their dynamic, the pair seem to have some sort of close bond.

She doesn't get the chance to see the exchange any further as the train starts to move, but the brunette somewhat glad she got to see the blonde interact in a way that didn't revolve around silence and a paperback.

* * *

The work Christmas party. It's never something she tended to enjoy considering the arrogant nature of the majority of her colleagues. Surprisingly, the year's version of events wasn't as bad as expected considering there was an open bar and plenty of familiar faces to talk to. By the time it approached 11pm, the brunette - despite her tipsy nature - knew it was time to go home; she couldn't afford to miss her train back. What started as a simple conversation with a red-haired colleague who may or may not have accompanied her bedroom on an occasion or two soon turned into a race.

Leaving the party having said goodbye to a number of her colleagues, the brunette leads the way to the subway station, where, within a couple of minutes, the train arrives.

The carriages are empty considering how late it is in the evening, and the two women take a seat next to one another. The brunette enjoys the other woman's company, frequently chucking as they recount some of the things they had witnessed throughout their evening. In her tipsy state, the brunette doesn't really take much notice of her surroundings - her main focus being the hand resting on her left knee. Her eyes feel heavy, but she pleads with herself to stay awake for the remainder of the journey.

The sound of a dog barking fills the carriage as the doors open to let people on at the next stop; as she turns her head to the right, she freezes. While the brunette sees a man take a seat on an empty chair holding a small sausage dog in his arms, a few chairs down she sees a familiar head of blonde hair; no book in sight, unreadable eyes looking straight at her.

Her fuzzy mind doesn't know what to do; the mixture of alcohol and the hand rubbing her leg scrabbles the pieces of the puzzle that is her mind. The blonde doesn't say anything. Doesn't move anything. Doesn't show anything. In what feels like a lifetime, the brunette's focus is finally dragged away by low whispering in her ear followed by a set of teeth lightly grazing her neck. Clenching down on her jaw while briefly closing her eyes over, she turns to look at the woman next to her, giving slight eyebrow raise - indicating that a public train wasn't the time or place. The red-haired woman lets out a light chuckle before resting back in her chair so that her body is facing forwards, hands now to herself.

Looking back over, the brunette is again met by a set of staring eyes. She gives the blonde credit - she isn't exactly hiding where she's looking. She watches the blonde's eyes scan between herself and the woman next to her, before her head snaps back forward, eyes retreating downwards as though the floor below was of interest.

If it weren't for the fact that she wasn't really in the right frame of mind, the brunette would have said something; if it weren't for the fact that she had someone with her, the brunette would have gone over; if it weren't for the fact that the blonde gets off at the next stop, the brunette would have fought for contact.

* * *

**PS: I'm not American so please forgive any plot inaccuracies.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I appreciate all the kind reviews so far! **

**It's a change for me writing a story with little dialogue (none so far in this case), but it's a fun thing to experiment with. I'd be curious to know your thoughts on it, considering I myself am not the biggest fan of reading a bulk of description and tend to just result in skimming through! **

* * *

The feeling of cold air is what wakes her up the following morning. Opening her eyes as she extends her neck, the brunette sees her bedroom window wide open and the sight of her early morning's source of company getting changed. It's something she finds funny - the red-head had never before read her subtle cues whenever she was trying to kick her out, but it seems as though this time she didn't have to bother. Their eventual conversation is brief - another thing she's is grateful for, and although the red-head made a passing comment about seeing each other soon, the brunette offered nothing other than a close-lipped smile while gripping onto the front door she held open.

Her banging head didn't help either - something she immediately takes tablets for, and although it's the weekend, she doesn't think she can hack meeting her friends for the drinks they had planned later in the evening. The sofa is where she finds herself parked, and despite the thought of entertaining responsibility makes her feel worse than she already does, she grabs her laptop and decides to try and continue some work, hoping it'll make the time fly by quicker. It doesn't, she soon discovers; the screen - despite lowering it's brightness - starts to give her a more pronounced headache. She soon chooses to switch the device for something to read, deciding to try and finish what she's currently reading and start something new on her morning travels.

As soon as the thought flies into her head, she pauses, immediately reminded of the events of the night before. Her mind casts her back to her journey home and she's immediately annoyed. Not only had she missed out on the chance to talk to the mysterious blonde, she gets impression she may have even done something to offend the woman - almost as though her lack of effort to even recognise her came across the wrong way.

Closing her eyes over, the brunette lets out a heavy breath, frustrated with her drunken self and the fact that although they've technically never met, she can't stop thinking about the blonde that frequents her travels. That's the hard thing, she decides. Not having _really_ met her; not knowing the woman's name means she can't at least try and conduct some form of research; not knowing what her day job is elicits more and more questions about where it is she goes in the mornings; not knowing _anything_ makes her all the more eager to know _everything_.

* * *

On Monday morning, however, her thoughts once boarding the train are anywhere but the blonde whose eyes were glancing her way every now and then. The brunette, with a notebook on her lap and pen in hand, is focused on the words before her, reading through the contents of the speech she's meant to be delivering at a company conference. It's a yearly event, but she's never been given such a prestigious speaking role. She's not nervous - public speaking isn't something that she's a stranger to, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't stressed. Changes to the speaking order required her to make some last minute changes to her speech, and although her late-night editing did the job, she wanted to make sure she had it noted down word for word perfect.

Every now and again she lifts her head, looking up at the map of stops lining the side of the train's roof, checking how many more stops she has left of her journey. She's going into territory that isn't so familiar; deciding that she won't have time to stop in at her own place of work first meant she's going straight to the conference centre that lands two more stops down from where she normally gets off. Putting her belongings into her satchel resting between her legs, the brunette quickly checks her phone before allowing herself a second to breathe. She hates the stress events like these can bring, but she doesn't have long to dwell on the thought once the train stops.

Following the chain of people exiting the train, she grips onto her satchel resting on her shoulder - checking it's still there, before eyeing for any form of directional sign. In not seeing any that prove particularly helpful, she follows the crowd of people who seem to all be heading the same way up a nearby staircase. She does her best to look where she's going while getting her phone back out to refer to the mapped location page she'd saved to her camera roll, and upon reaching the top of the staircase, she this time finds an exit sign that's paired with a large, white arrow. Walking through the waves of people heading in several different directions, she lowers her phone to focus on getting out of the station to begin with.

She assesses that she'll have to go up another set of stairs, but a glimpse of - what she considers familiar - blonde hair starting a descent of the staircase causes her attention to again shift. Her eyes are trained on the back of the person's head, but the barrier of their grey coat prevents her from seeing the length of their locks. In what seems like a recurring pattern, she internally scalds herself for not paying more attention to her surroundings on the train, but that thought is soon overruled by the confirmation she was seeking. The person reaches the top of the staircase before turning right, but it's in that angular motion the brunette sees the person's face, causing her stomach to drop. Upon too reaching the stop of the stairs, she watches the blonde proceed to exit the station and again turn right - a sign that she's familiar with the station's layout. Also walking out the exit, the brunette moves away to the side and frantically eyes the pedestrians on the street. It doesn't take her long to find the blonde - she hadn't made a major amount of progress along the sidewalk; although she knows she's meant to be heading in the opposite direction, she figures looking for any further details won't hurt.

She also figures the view isn't so bad either. The blonde is wearing a long, grey trench coat which doesn't reveal a lot other than a sliver of a pair of black tights leading up from her ankles and a pair of nude coloured heels. She walks with confidence - another sign that she knows where she's going, before turning right into a building that the brunette quickly discovers is a Starbucks. She wonders what the blonde will order; whether she's one of those who more so rely on sugar for a boost or, much like herself, the caffeine.

Pulling her bottom lip with her teeth, the brunette waits one more second before turning back around. With her phone still in her hand, she goes back to the saved image she was previously scanning and begins to follow the listed directions.

* * *

The next time she sees her she's the one that this time isn't alone. The train is busy and they're both - for the first time in a while - standing. Accompanied with a man wearing a blue pinstripe suit, the blonde converses throughout the majority of the journey with her trusty book in her hand - cover closed, held tightly against her hip.

The brunette wonders how they know each other. Are they colleagues that happen to be on the same mode of transport? Are they old friends that have by chance bumped into each other? Are they romantically connected? That last thought causes her to look away, feeling strange all of a sudden. Thinking the unknown woman was attractive was one thing, but feeling envy at an even more unknown man was another.

The feeling somewhat subsides once the train reaches its next destination. She watches the two smile at one another before giving a one-armed hug as a goodbye. At the wrong moment, she's caught out. The blonde catches her curious orbs during their quest for further information, but the brunette looks away, feeling uncomfortable - almost as though she's seeing something that she shouldn't.

The next time she looks over, the train is again moving. The man is gone and the blonde stands in the same position, except this time reading her book. She doesn't know exactly how she thinks she will get away with looking considering how she herself can detect when someone's looking at her, but when her path of vision is met, this time, she doesn't look away.

Offering a twitch of a smile, the brunette awaits something back. Anything. The blonde - in what can only be described as a half-hearted manner - returns the gesture before looking back down at the words before her. She waits another few seconds before looking away, deciding that today obviously isn't her lucky day. Her subsequent daydream nearly makes her miss her stop, but she doesn't dare look back over. And it's for the greater good that she doesn't; the sight of the blonde's eyes following her exiting movements while she holds her bottom lip hostage between her teeth most certainly would have made her miss the stop.

* * *

Eventually, the ridiculousness of their silent exchanges becomes too much for the brunette to handle. She needs to _actually talk_ to this woman. The idea of moving down to where the blonde would stand if not seated is something she should have pursued a long time ago, but she comes to the conclusion that taking the first step is better late than never.

She's the first on the train this time - quickly concluding this is one of those days the blonde doesn't get on earlier than her for whatever reason, but decides to stand in the near empty carriage even though there are seats available. She patiently waits until the train reaches the next stop, internally planning what it is she wishes to say.

Like normal, the train is flooded with people, giving the brunette a hard time finding one particular person. By the time the carriage is filled, she still can't see the awaited woman. She looks to her left one last time as the doors close over and she's caught with the sight of a woman standing with her hands on her knees, panting heavily as though she'd just ran a marathon. The woman's head rises, watching the closed doors with evident frustration, and the brunette's lips immediately rise into a smile.

Their eyes meet, and although the blonde looks distressed, she returns the sentiment - even going as far as showing her teeth in what the brunette guesses is an exchange that elicited a laugh. The blonde's hair is tied up - a new look the brunette was yet to witness - and her smile reveals a set of dimples, adding to her attractive nature if possible. The moment is pleasant - memorable, even; although it seems as though the universe is doing everything in its power to prevent them from meeting properly, the obstacles along the way could be a whole lot worse.


	4. Chapter 4

As she watches her boss leave her office, the brunette smiles to herself. She'd been given flawless feedback from the conference speech she had given, and although he had already made it clear at the event itself, her boss felt the need to reiterate his thanks. She has no real work assignments to be doing given the fact that she'd finished the long-term project she'd been working on earlier in the month.

Her office isn't massive, but it isn't small either. It gives her the privacy she craves when working, yet proves to be of convenience if someone were to wish to come and find her. As she sits at her wooden desk closing down pages of work she no longer needs on her computer, the brunette's mind is left somewhat blank as she ponders what could keep her busy for the rest of the day.

She considers looking up flights for a trip away that her friends had brought up in discussion a few weeks back, but she soon decides to be more practical, instead looking up flights to visit her mother, who, despite being the most important person in her life, she doesn't get to see anywhere near enough. Getting out a notepad from her desk drawer and a pen from an unused mug on the desk, she jots down the information of some of the flights that take her interest. She decides she'll weigh up her options further once she gets home, but is pleased that she's at least making a start.

Her boss later makes a re-appearance, stating that she can go home early for a 'well deserved' long weekend; packing up her belongings, the brunette makes her way home at just gone midday - the earliest in a _very_ long time. She decides to stop off to grab some lunch from a local coffee shop, and by the time she finds herself on a train, she just about misses the lunchtime rush hour. Given the time of day, she doesn't strategically wait at a particular part of the platform - as well as the fact that she's the only one there, which results in her landing a seat in a carriage further up the train than normal.

The carriage is practically empty bar a couple of people seated further down to the left of where she is, but with her coffee in hand and headphones in her ears, she can't hear any noise that's being made if any. Her eyes follow the scenery outside the window until they reach the next stop where someone gets on at a door further to the right, causing her head to naturally turn to observe the situation. The woman, like herself, has in a pair of headphones and proceeds to sit down without so much as looking up from the device that seems to be glued to her hands. The brunette's focus doesn't stay on her for much longer as when she eyes the door separating the current carriage and the next, she can't tell whether her eyes are deceiving her. The window on the door reveals a person sitting down, leisurely listening to whatever is playing through their headphones. She smirks at the coincidental nature that _of course_ a particular blonde is on her train, but her curiosity grows. Why is she too travelling home early - if that's where she's going? Where's her book? What's she listening to? The woman - as far as she can tell - is completely unaware of her presence, making it all the more easier to stare without feeling as though she's going to be caught out.

She's wearing a black puffer type coat with a white scarf hanging loosely around her neck, making it hard to see the rest of her outfit. Her hair is scooped back behind her ears, giving the brunette a perfect view of her side profile. Her natural jawline is sharp along the edges, and if she were to guess, it would get even more pronounced if she were to clench down on her back teeth. The woman's beauty is evident like always, but the brunette finds herself unable to look away. She catches the woman attempting to hold back a smile, and she wonders if whatever she's listening to is more so on the comedic side unlike the podcast about higher education she's currently listening to.

In what seems like a recurring theme, she nearly misses her stop due to her lack of focus elsewhere. In all fairness, she wouldn't be mad if she missed her stop - she may even learn some more about the blonde sitting in the next carriage; however, an overwhelming feeling of realisation that maybe her thoughts are borderline creepy makes her grateful that she had gotten off. If there's one thing about whatever is going on, she wouldn't want to come across as a weird creep.

* * *

Pressing the red button at the bottom of her phone screen, the brunette lets out a relieved breath. As soon as she had gotten home, she looked further into flights and paid for ones that both allowed her to visit her mother for her birthday and be back to make sure she didn't miss more than the 2 days of work her boss had allowed her to take off for the occasion. Her mother seemed thrilled by the news, stating that she would have her old room ready for her arrival in a few weeks' time.

She had been in the process of making her dinner when her mom called, and her phone immediately continues playing the podcast she was initially listening to through a nearby Bluetooth speaker. The show was one she had always listened to; topics tend to change every month, varying from science to film to relationships, but this one in particular - one she had been listening to addictively - spoke more so about education. The particular episode she was listening to featured an interview with a professional who was explaining the merits of their most recent piece of research. Their comments made the brunette chuckle to herself on the brief period, and she soon came to the conclusion that whoever it was was obviously very passionate about their field of work and chose to express it in a way she uniquely hadn't heard before. The interviewer ends the episode with a side note on where the interviewee's latest book can be read, and while the show's theme tune music begins to play, indicating that the episode is finished, the brunette reaches for her laptop that was resting on her dining table and searches for the title of the named book.

Upon seeing the images appear along the page, she instantly recognises the front cover - from where, it takes her a few seconds to remember. The same dark background matches the front cover of the reading material she had first spotted her travel companion non-stop reading. She stops for a second, wondering if the woman had heard about the book from the same podcast as herself or through other means but that soon becomes insignificant. She proceeds to look further into the book - where she can purchase it, and readings the reviews to check it's really worth her time. Nothing puts her off - if anything, the motivating factor of knowing the blonde on the train couldn't put it down proved to be enough, so she moves to make the purchase, deciding that if she enjoyed listening to the topic, she'd even more so find it an interesting read.

Closing over her laptop, the brunette moves to take her dinner out the oven, thoughts changing to more practical measures, like which kind of wine she's going to open for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Upon boarding the train the following Monday, the brunette is excited to start her new read. Well, that's what she tells herself. In reality, she wants a reaction. She wants the mysterious blonde lady to see the book in her hand and use it as an excuse to come over and introduce herself despite the packed nature of the early morning train.

For whatever reason, she doesn't get a seat, but still has a comfortable standing position allowing her to both hold on to a nearby handrail as well as her book. Today is one of the days she's on the train first and she finds herself not-so-patiently waiting for it to reach the next stop. Her eyes flicker up every now and again while the new flood of people eventually join the carriage, and by the time it starts moving again, she observes a certain blonde settling into her usual space. The woman doesn't look up straight away, however - instead fiddling with the contents inside her bag, but when she does her reaction is far from what she expected.

The blonde's eyes widen in what looks like surprise as her eyes land on the brunette. They flicker between the brunette and the book in her hands before settling for eye contact.

A part of the brunette feels self conscious; she twists the book in her hands to look at the front cover - check nothing is wrong with it, before looking back over, raising her eyebrows almost in question.

For the first time with the knowledge that it has nothing to do the cold weather outside, the brunette watches the blonde's cheeks flush to light shade of red as she tilts her head down slightly, breaking their eye contact. She wonders what part of whatever she just did managed to render the blonde into what looks like some sort of state of embarrassment, but doesn't want to make the woman feel uncomfortable.

Throughout the rest of the journey, she begins reading - this time, genuinely taking in the information on the pages. On a few separate occasions she catches the blonde looking her way but doesn't let it show, instead covering it up with adjusting her glasses or rubbing an eye. From what she could tell, the woman looked curious - almost as though she was expecting something to happen, and although it was causing her focus to waver at times, the feeling of being watched in this specific situation wasn't one she particularly minded.


	5. Chapter 5

Like she always does, the brunette rolls her eyes at her mother's not-so-sly attempt at prying about her love life. Despite stating about the lack of, she doesn't relent, and although she's telling the truth, she knows her mother thinks otherwise. Well, by the truth she means she's not in a relationship - that's true, but as for having an interest in someone, that's something she chooses not to comment on for the time being.

She always enjoys visiting home and spending quality time with her mother, but on this occasion, it means that much more. It's been nearly 6 months since she last saw her in person down to the heavy commitments towards her latest work project p; she's just glad that it's something she no longer has to think about.

Throughout the 2nd evening of her 4 day stay, the brunette's mother returns home late from what she described as 'essential errands'. She shouts her greetings upon arrival to which the brunette responds from where she's seated the living room reading her latest buy. She's finding it more interesting than she would have ever guessed - she can understand why the blonde woman from the train could never seem to put it down. Her mother waltzes in after placing her shopping bags on the kitchen counter but she doesn't realise - thoughts captured by the words in front of her. The sound of her name being called pulls her out of her bubble before apologising and asking her mother how her day had been.

The older woman, however, seemed to have more of a focus on her daughter's reading material rather than entertaining a somewhat formulaic conversation. The brunette learns that her mother had heard about the book from a friend which causes a series of questions to fly her way. Despite stating that she didn't write the book and therefore can't answer every question, her mother counters with information. She learns that in the world of education, it's a piece of emerging literature that's heavily regarded, and that the woman who wrote it is said to be one of the most intelligent people in her field.

Although she doesn't really care for the background information, the brunette smiles and acts as though she's engaged - enjoying seeing her mother want to converse about something as obscure as a research-focused book. Once the older woman ventures back into the kitchen to unpack her shopping, the brunette - now curious from her mother's words, folds the top corner of the page she was reading and flips to the front section. She scans through for the author's background information before stopping on the page once found. She learns the woman is fairly young to be producing such research - well, she assumes anyway - at the age of 29, and has a well-adorned background when it comes to an upbringing in education. The woman excelled in her studies - going as far as achieving higher level diplomas as a postgraduate. Not a lot more is revealed, but the brunette does pause for a moment to appreciate the efforts the person must have gone to to produce such a dense material of work.

* * *

By the time she's back home and on her way to work, the brunette is now half way through her reading. It's challenging considering she doesn't have a professional stance on the educational issues it debates, but she finds it interesting nonetheless; some of her close friends are teachers and she has every intention in recommending it the next time she sees them in person.

For the first time in a while, the brunette manages to get a seat in the morning. Again, with her book in hand, once reaching the next stop, she looks up to watch people pilling onto the train. She spots the familiar blonde on board, except this time she's not alone or paired in a way as before seen. Her left hand is holding onto a hand belonging to a young child who she is guiding to stand by her side. She can't entirely see due to the people standing in the way, but if she were to guess, the brunette imagines it's a relative of hers. This causes her mind to spiral. Is the child hers? Is she married? Is she just babysitting?

Upon reflection, she doubts it's hers; as people get off at the next stop, she sees the child - a young girl - has dark hair unlike the blonde's, and upon scanning the blonde's hand, she's reminded that she doesn't have - and never has had - any form of ring on her ring finger. That again creates another layer of questioning: where are they going? Does the blonde's job revolve around childcare?

Feeling a strange sensation shoot through her, the brunette tries to stop herself from watching - something about the entire atmosphere makes her feel as though she's interrupting something. On the other hand, what she did see made her enthralled. The blonde was smiling more and seemed to enjoy entertaining the young child she was responsible for. It made her assume that she's good with children, but that still didn't help answer any of her previous questions.

With her lack of headphones, the brunette can still hear everything going on around her. When it eventually comes to her stop, she had been so engrossed in her surroundings that she doesn't have time to put away her book. Clutching it against her side while she gets off, she is thrown off guard in hearing a not-so-subtle exchange about her. The voice, she notes, comes from a much younger individual, and her mind immediately takes a guess as to who it could possibly be. She hears someone being referred to as 'Aunt P' along with a mention of a 'book', and that all but confirms who is talking about her. She turns her head before taking the final step off the train to see the blonde and the young girl - now standing in front of the older woman's legs - looking her way. She watches the blonde woman place her hands on the younger girl's shoulders in a calm manner before what looks like an attempt to get her to quieten her voice in the public setting that they're in.

By the time she's eventually on the platform, the brunette finds herself smirking. _So it's her niece_, she thinks to herself - a confirmation that the child indeed isn't hers and a hint that the blonde has at least one sibling. Despite the young girl seeming to have a good vocabulary for her age, she wonders why of all the things possible, it was the navy book in her hand that sparked such an interest. She doesn't have much longer to ponder the subject as she begins to rush through the station to her place of work, but it's a topic of interest she definitely files into the forefront of her mind for when she next has a free moment.

* * *

Typing 'Aunt P' into the search engine made her feel more dumb than she currently looked. Having arrived at work with the news that her boss was out all day, the brunette enjoyed the idea of being free from of anyone checking up on her. Currently seated at her desk on her computer, she's supporting her head with her left hand while her right uses the scroll on the mouse to assess all the contents of the search engine's results.

Of course it's a useless search - something she already assumed before she typed it in, but at least it's something she can rule out. Her next thought is to type in the title of the book in her bag, hoping it will reveal some sort of explanation. This time, she refrains from searching what already gave her false hope, but the page reveals nothing other than a list of places to buy the book and several images of its front cover - all knowledge she already possessed.

One link to an article does, however, catch her eye. Reading its contents, she learns the author is performing as a guest speaker for several events throughout the next few weeks. While she's now going off topic, it's something that immediately grabs her interest. She reads further into the event taking place closest to where she lives - well, where she works given the small list of places available, and decides to try and make an effort to attend the one roughly 30 minutes from where her office is based.

With an uplifted mood, the brunette decides to go on an early lunch break. She locks her computer and grabs her items, all thought of her failed internet search absent from her mind.

* * *

**I've planned for this to have 8 chapters in total... hang on just a bit longer!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Happy New Year! **

**This has 2 more chapters and then it's back to finishing off my other works...**

* * *

With her ticket in hand, the brunette walks along the middle aisle of the large conference hall, trying to find her seat. She's fortunate that her row is not yet filled with people to squeeze past, and the feeling heightens once seated. She's situated more so towards the middle of her row that's on the left-hand side of the room, giving her a good enough view of the stage. The room begins to grow busier by the minute, and by the time someone comes on to briefly introduce the evening's event, the room is dark, everyone is quiet, and all attention is on the stage.

The middle-aged woman introduces the guest speaker for the night, who, through a round of applause, appears from where they must have been standing out of view at the side of the stage. It takes the brunette a couple of seconds to realise what is really happening, but after watching the two women exchange a brief one-handed hug on in which both parties are politely smiling, realisation kicks in.

Normally, she'd recognise that blonde head of hair from a mile away, but several factors make her second guess her initial judgement. The woman - for the first time, isn't wearing any form of outdoors coat or jacket, meaning the entirety of her outfit can be seen; her hair lies at a bob length - seeming to be even shorter than what is had normally been, and as she takes the stand to begin speaking, she slides on a pair of glasses to cover her eyes. They're a feature the brunette had seen before, but it's not a frequent sighting.

Seeing her in a context outside of the confides of a train carriage was one thing, but hearing her voice was another. As expected, her American accent is higher in pitch compared to her own, but she communicates with great clarity and confidence - a sign that this certainly wasn't her first time speaking to a large audience.

The brunette finds herself hanging on the woman's every word and she's merely only just introduced herself: _Dr Piper Chapman_. The 'Dr' part had her thrown, but then again, she doesn't find it surprising that the blonde is intelligent - something about the way she carries herself screams intelligence. The blonde goes onto explain elements of her occupation - adding towards educational research being the most current feature. It all makes sense to the brunette - the book in question that the blonde is here to talk about focuses on the topic. She also learns the blonde is training to become a lecturer - something which further supports why she is such a competent public speaker.

She doesn't divulge any further into her personal life until the latter stages of the 2 hour session when the floor is opened for any questions. After being asked about what she wishes to focus on next, the blonde chuckles - a sound which makes the brunette's stomach flip unexpectedly - and clearly ponders her answer. In her response, the blonde comments on part of research she thinks lacks in quality, adding that her current thoughts are swaying towards primary education given her experiences within her niece's school environment. It's a fact she already somewhat knew, but it all but confirmed that the blonde was taking her niece to school when she had seen then together not so long ago, and it most certainly all adds up in regards to why the young girl had made a comment about her choice in reading material.

At times, she finds it hard to focus. Not only because the blonde's presence alone proves to make her zone out, but for the fact that, at times, she struggles to fully understand what is being spoken about. She herself doesn't have any children nor any nieces or nephews, which causes her to wonder how the blonde herself grew to become so invested in what she does.

The question and answer session is assisted by the woman who introduced the blonde at the beginning, allowing her to have a pause from continually speaking; while the room is focused on the older woman talking into her microphone, prompting for further questions, the brunette's eyes are expectedly elsewhere.

She watches the blonde take a sip from the water bottle that had been resting by her feet since she'd taken a seat, before placing it back down and scan the audience. Her eyes - now absent of glasses since she's no longer reading from anything, flicker between the rows, and although she knows it's a long shot, the brunette wonders if the blonde can see her. What makes it more unlikely is the room's lack of lighting, along with the fact that she's not seated right by the front.

The talk soon draws to a close in which the blonde is given a large round of applause - something that leaves her smiling from her seat on the stage. The brunette, in turn, too finds herself smiling; there's something strange about being in her current situation without the blonde as much as knowing of her current presence, but the entire experience has given her a new level of admiration for the mysterious blonde - well, the now not-as-mysterious _Piper_, she internally corrects herself.

* * *

Despite the urge on her journey home, the brunette allowed herself to wait until she reached the comfort of her own home before conducting any research. With something to now work with, she Googles the blonde's name - something she feels suits her image, and scans through the results. Most are articles about her recent book, some are shops giving information on it's availability, while others are links to other pieces of research the woman must have contributed towards. One particular website catches her eye - a link to a web page from Smith University, which the brunette soon learns is where the blonde studied and is now seen as a high-achieving member of their alumni.

One link takes her to the blonde's Twitter page, and although it seems to have a fair few number of followers, the brunette refrains from taking that step herself - that, in her eyes, would be a leap too far - especially as she's never even introduced herself yet. Clicking on the woman's profile picture, she leans back into the sofa in which she's seated and lets out a huff. The picture must can't be too recent considering the blonde's longer hair, but she still looks as flawless as every other time the brunette had set her eyes on her. The small circle cuts off the remainder of the image - giving off a head-shot like vibe in which the cut off occurs just before the blonde's chest, further prompting the brunette to resort to leave the website and click on the 'images' tab.

The results make her clench down on her jaw; some are of the blonde in group settings, one is a business-like profile picture, and another is of her talking to a crowd - the short length of her hair indicating it is a more recently taken picture. None of them reveal much, but the brunette feels a sense of gratification - almost as though the confirmation that the blonde is actually a real person and not one made up in her imagination puts her mind at ease.

The last image she manages to find featuring the blonde is of her with a shorter brunette, and from the way they're both smiling into the camera on what looks to be a beach, she guesses that they are either related or fairly close friends. Clicking the link associated with the picture takes the brunette to a Facebook page - one belonging to a 'Polly Harper'. _Interesting name_, she notes, and finds herself chuckling at the thought that maybe the two are friends due to their unconventional names. The woman's privacy prevents her from seeing a lot, but her profile picture - the image of the two women, makes her feel as though she'd hit the jackpot. Enlarging the image gives the brunette a better view of the two; the blonde is wearing a dark green bikini top, a pair of denim shorts, and a set of flip-flops. Their eyes are both covered by sunglasses, and although she finds herself fixed on the sight of the blonde's toned torso, the real plus is the tagged account that's been attached to the blonde's abdomen.

What she soon concludes is that this 'Piper Chapman' likes her privacy, and _by God_ was she trying to let people know it. Her account is much more secure compared to her friend - only revealing her name, her profile photo - an image she had already seen on Google, and her cover photo - a scenic view of somewhere the brunette guesses she has been.

A part of her feels like a creep. She knows so much - well, more than she probably should - about this blonde woman, yet - as far as she's aware, the former doesn't know anything as close - if at all - about her. That thought prompts her to conclude her search; the internet is going to get her nowhere.


	7. Chapter 7

The following morning, the brunette finds it hard to keep her eyes open. She'd fallen asleep not long after she'd finished browsing the internet, and although she slept for longer than she usually would, her body seems to be thrown off its course. She managed to find herself a seat on the early morning train but chose to keep her book in her bag, not thinking she'll be able to focus on any of the words gracing the page.

The blonde - _Piper_, she corrects herself - isn't on the train, but it's something she expected. She learnt the night before that her guest appearances are happening throughout the entirety of the week at different times and places - hardly a window of opportunity for them to see each other.

By the time she reaches work, the brunette feels more awake, but she considers it has more to do with the fact that she's meant to be leading a meeting rather than her body suddenly feeling energised. She's kept busy throughout the day, and doesn't find herself leaving the office until just gone 9pm - something she finds less than ideal.

A plus she does appreciate is that the trains are less busy than usual, but if she had her choice, she would rather travel home at her regular time and risk not getting a seat compared to the more so empty carriage she finds herself in. The lack of abundant noise allows her focus to be placed on the words on the pages of her open book that she's hoping to finish in the next few days, but suddenly her attention is grabbed by the lights going out in the carriage, preventing her from being able to see the book in front of her clearly. A few seconds pass by and she doesn't think anything of it when the lights flick back on - that's up until the train suddenly stops entirely.

Again, the lights go out, and although it's only been a few seconds, the brunette immediately begins praying that they're not going to be stuck for hours upon end. She looks around the carriage to her right but struggles to really see anyone due to the empty seats as well as the darkness; and not too long after, an announcement from the driver reveals there is a fault with the train's engine, resulting in a 'short delay'. The brunette rolls her eyes, knowing the delay will be far from short, but doesn't find herself stressing out - it's not like she has anywhere to be this evening.

The lights flicker on and off every now and again, and although at this moment they've actually stayed on for a good few continual minutes, the brunette decides that continuing to even try and keep reading her book would be pointless. With it now resting on her lap in a closed position, she allows herself to look around at the people in the carriage - having not really done so throughout her journey so far.

As established, the carriage is practically empty where she's seated on the far left; the far right has an older couple sitting in silence and a woman with her eyes closed, while the middle adorns many an empty seat except one. Her eyes widen at the crazy reality she's living in, and the brunette can't help but smirk at the odds that Piper would be on her train. Initially, she finds it weird to be referring to the woman by her first name in her head, but the idea of getting to know the woman trumps the idea of her internal indecisiveness.

Her head is down and she has a pen in her hand, writing in a small notebook. The brunette finds it surprising that she didn't notice the blonde when she first boarded, but she concludes that if both of their attention was elsewhere, they wasn't a real need to look around. She also ponders why the blonde is still writing things down considering the unpredictability of the lights in the carriage, and just as the thought begins to deepen, the lights again go out. She can see the shadow of the blonde's head fly up to look at the ceiling, and if she were to guess, she imagines the blonde is internally cussing at the luck she's currently experiencing.

Deciding that now is better than never, the brunette grabs her belongings and slowly begins to walk down the carriage. She observes a small light appear from the blonde's seat, but in noting that her head is down and her hands are frantically moving, the brunette realises that whatever she was trying to write down before is surely being transferred and continued in her phone notes.

She doesn't want to startle the blonde - make herself look strange, so she slowly approaches and takes a seat in the one opposite, placing her bag down on the open seat to her left. She opens her book on her lap, trying to make it look like she's doing something other than stare, and although she isn't keeping track of the time, it sure does feel like a lifetime until the lights begin to slowly flicker back on.

This time, she gets a better view of the blonde - the best view yet, she reflects. Her short blonde hair is covering her ears; her opened grey trench coat allows for a white shirt to be seen underneath, and her eyes are still focused down on the device in front of her. She knows the woman is bound to look up at any moment when her spatial awareness kicks in, so she lifts her opened book a bit higher and makes it seem as though she's actually reading. It's a task that's more difficult than it initially seemed to try and focus on two things at once, but it's more so the blonde's actions that make it easier. From the tops of her eyes she sees the blonde's fingers pause from their frantic mission, followed by the phone being lowered into her lap and screen being locked in the process. It's in this point she imagines the blonde is looking her way if not upwards in some direction, so she takes a shot to lift her head.

As predicted, the blonde is looking directly at her, but seems conflicted in what to do next. If she's being honest with herself, the brunette herself hadn't planned what she was intending on happening next, but if being recognised within the first 5 minutes of moving seat meant something, she was on the right track. She watches the blonde's top layer of immaculately straight teeth bite down on the edge of her lower lip - almost as though preventing a full-scale smile from breaking out as the edges of her mouth raise up.

The brunette offers a close-lipped smile in response, deciding she's not going to get a better chance than her current one.

"I know what you're thinking," she begins, lifting her hands as she speaks. "I should have finished this by now."

She watches the blonde's smile widen; her eyes flick to look down at the book and back up while her tongue darts out to dampen her lips.

"I doubt the author wrote it with the intention of people finishing it within a certain time frame."

The brunette ponders how she should go about her reply - should she play along or let in to the fact that she knows who the woman in front of her actually is?

"Maybe they just think educating the educated is a powerful resource," she says, repeating something she remembered the blonde voicing during one of her monologues.

She watches the blonde's eyes widen even more than they had before, and it's in this moment the brunette mentally pats herself on the back, pleased with how she dealt with the situation.

"I guess you've done your research then," she voices with a tone that both sounds impressed and borderline confused at the same time if possible.

Shifting in her seat, the brunette closes the book over and places it on top of her bag.

"I don't want to come across as weird or anything," she begins, feeling as though she needs to explain herself to a degree. "I'm a people watcher; I saw you reading this a few times and wondered what the fuss was all about. I had no idea it was your work, I'm sorry if you think-"

She's cut off by the blonde dismissing her point, changing the topic of conversation nonchalantly.

"Green. You're eyes. They're green."

The brunette is stunned by the comment - she hadn't expected such a thing to come out of the other woman's mouth, but she welcomes it at the same time.

"And yours are blue," she responds, noting to herself the brightness of the blonde's eyes for the first time. "You have an extra ligament than those with brown eyes."

"I didn't know that," the other woman says, mouth slightly agape.

"You didn't know your eye colour or the other part?" the brunette remarks, smirking with a smug manner.

At this, the blonde's cheek flush a light pink, contrasting with the brightness of her teeth.

"You know," the blonde begins, shuffling to sit up straighter while looking around to see that no one can hear. "I've been trying to find the courage to come over and introduce myself," she reveals, the blush in her cheeks heightening.

"I think the universe had other plans," the brunette chuckles, remembering the day she herself had finally tried to initiate conversation but the blonde instead missed the train. "You're not the only one though. It's almost like you're a friend that I know nothing about."

"I don't know if I'd consider you a _friend_," the blonde says, crossing over her legs and leaning her right elbow against her thigh, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

The brunette's eyebrows rise at the inflection in the other woman's tone, wondering what she means by the comment, but she doesn't let the thought linger for long.

"I'm Alex by the way," she voices, finally introducing herself.

"Piper," the blonde responds, "but I have a feeling you already knew that," she adds, smirking, before continuing with a slanted smile. "What do you do, Alex, apart from stalk strangers on trains?"

"Me? I'm a part-time stalker, full-time engineer."

"So you are as smart as you look," she comments, eyeing the brunette up and down before restoring their eye contact. "It's lovely to finally meet you, Alex. It only took us about 8 months."

"8 and a half, I think you'll find," the brunette smiles, pleased that the blonde had been keeping track of time.

"Well it looks like we have some catching up to do, don't we?" the blonde says, tilting her head to the side, and if her instincts are correct, the brunette thinks the blonde is trying to flirt with her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's the final chapter. There's a time jump which I hope is clear, and any italicised sections are flashbacks. (They'll be more from me at the end.)**

* * *

Considering it's winter time, the sun shining down allows for an element of warmth. She's surprised they made it outside considering the amount of complaining she received once trying out of bed, but her underlying annoyance immediately faded once they began to stroll down the pavement.

"What time do you finish again?" Alex asks, eyebrows furrowed as she tries to push herself to remember.

"I should be done by 2," the woman next to her responds, turning her head to establish eye contact. "I got most things done yesterday, so there shouldn't be a problem if I leave early."

"I'll be heading home after my meeting," the brunette begins, letting the blonde take the lead as they enter the subway station. "Am I making anything specific for dinner?"

"Just you will be fine," Piper replies, stunning the brunette momentarily as they reach the bottom of the staircase and make their way to the platform.

"As nice as that sounds, I'm being serious," Alex smiles, joining the blonde at a standstill in a relatively empty space.

Grabbing the brunette's left arm to link with her own, Piper tilts her head to the right and leans on the taller woman's shoulder.

"Surprise me," she responds, biting down on her lower lip as she shifts her vision so that their eyes meet. "I'm sure you'll think of something with that brain of yours," she continues, a smile rising on her lips as she leans forward and places a kiss on the brunette's jaw.

They wait patiently for the train to arrive before managing to board the carriage in a space just by the doors.

"This feels familiar," Alex whispers into Piper's ear from where she's standing behind the blonde against the back wall of the carriage.

"Did you want me to move to the other side so you can get a better view?" the blonde chuckles, referring to the time before they'd even met while pushing her body backwards.

"Now this certainly feels familiar," the brunette jokes, discretely placing her hand on the top of the blonde's ass pressed into her front.

"Al," Piper warns, turning her head while swatting the brunette's wondering hand. "Not here."

"That's not what you were saying the other night after you dragged me to the toilets and-"

"That's different," the blonde interrupts, feeling her cheeks blushing at the memory of the sudden need she felt during a friend's Christmas party which led to her dragging Alex into a private bathroom. "Save it for later."

"If you insist," the brunette chuckles, entertained by how her morning has been going so far.

The compact space they find themselves in makes conversation difficult, so the two women stand in relative silence right up until it's the brunette's turn to exit the vehicle.

"Have a good day," Piper says, gripping onto the taller woman's forearm while managing to slot into a space next to her as she prepares to not stand in the way of the exit.

"I'll try," Alex rolls her eyes before smiling. "See you later," she adds as a beeping sound begins, alluding to the opening movement of the doors.

"Mmhmm," Piper hums, leaning up to kiss the brunette on the lips. "Happy Anniversary," she whispers against her mouth, feeling the need to give it another mention despite it being the reason they had struggled to get out of bed earlier that morning.

"Happy Anniversary," Alex says back quietly, smiling before moving to get off the train.

The brunette waits on the platform until the door shuts, waving at the blonde looking right back at her with a light blush adorning her cheeks.

* * *

_"I had a really great night," Piper says, smiling as they come to a standstill outside her apartment building._

_"Well I'm glad because I did too," Alex mirrors her smile, unsure as to what to do next._

_"Would you, um-" the blonde pauses, her slight nervousness evident, "like to come in for coffee or something?"_

_Finding the blonde's obvious insecure state endearing, Alex smirks. "As much as I'd like to, I need to catch the last train home. Maybe next time?"_

_"Of course, yeah," Piper shifts on the spot. "So I guess I'll see you in the morning?" she continues in a quiet voice - something the brunette finds even more adorable._

_"I guess you will," Alex says leaning forward to hug the smaller woman. "Goodnight, kid," she says, pulling away but not missing the blonde's vision lowering to her lips momentarily._

_"Let me know when you get home," Piper voices, sounding somewhat stunned as she watches Alex wave towards her while backing away from the building's entrance._

_The brunette knows the blonde was expecting more, but she enjoyed keeping her on her toes - deciding to wait that bit longer will make things all the more exciting._

_Upon reaching home and getting ready for bed, the brunette props herself up against her headboard and texts the blonde as requested._

_Alex: Not long been home (yes, I did have to run for the train)._

_A part of her expected it, but she wasn't sure if it would happen so soon; her phone vibrates in her hand less than a minute after hitting send - indicating that she had received a response._

_Piper: Would have been a real shame if you were stranded and had nowhere to go… _

_Alex: Well, there may have been one place to go. It belongs to a friend of mine. Tall, blonde. You might be familiar with her?_

_Piper: Friend?_

_Piper: Didn't realise you had those._

_Chuckling to herself at the blonde's response, the brunette ponders what to type next - not wanting to ruin the mood of their current conversation._

_Alex: I guess that's something for you to find out._

_Piper: I'm sure I'll be able to get it out of you soon enough._

_Alex: I'm sure you'll be able to get plenty out of me, Pipes._

_She isn't too sure where the conversation is going to end up; given the sight of the three dots appearing and disappearing at the bottom of the screen, she wonders what it is that is taking the blonde so long to type out._

_Piper: I really wish you kissed me this evening._

_Her eyes widen once she finally reads the blonde's message, and although teasing the blonde felt good in the moment, she herself is beginning to question her reasoning for doing so. She thinks through whether she should explain herself to the blonde, but decides for something better._

_Alex: Well I had to do something that would make you want to go out with me again._

_Piper: If it mean I'd get that kiss, I'm pretty sure I'd do anything for you, Alex._

_Alex: I'm sensing you're not a very patient person…_

_Piper: I waited long enough to talk to you, so I think I'm past the point of waiting. Is that okay with you?_

_Looking at the blonde's message, the brunette bites down on her lower lip - not expecting the other woman to be establishing such a forward approach._

_Alex: More than okay with me. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, Piper._

_Piper: Me too, Al x _

* * *

A light knocking sound travels throughout her office, causing Piper to lift her head.

Smiling, the blonde waves the person - who she sees is a colleague that had just attended a meeting on her behalf - into the room.

"Ms Chapman, hi," the woman begins, smiling politely as she opens the door, walks towards the blonde seated at her desk, and places a notebook onto the wooden surface.

"How many times have I said to call me Piper," the blonde smiles, finding it somewhat entertaining that her senior status within the workplace still intimidates some of those around her. "How did the meeting go?" she asks, turning from where her focus was previously on the computer in front of her over to the woman standing before her.

"Boring as usual. What're you still doing here anyway? Don't tell me I covered you in there for no reason?" the woman chuckles - making it clear she didn't mind stepping in for the blonde who claimed she had elsewhere to be.

"Things happened to work quicker than expected," Piper begins, grabbing the notebook and flicking through the pages. "Alex doesn't finish for just over another hour, so I'll be leaving soon."

"I won't keep you then," she smiles, backing away and reopening the door. "Enjoy your evening."

"And you," Piper manages to respond before the woman walks out of her office.

Checking the time, she notes Alex's meeting should be finishing within the next 30 minutes. She wanted to surprise the brunette; in a last minute plan she had come up with while in her own company on the morning train, she had someone cover for her throughout the morning, and chose to leave the office earlier than she had earlier informed her girlfriend.

Despite knowing it won't take her a particularly long time to reach Alex's work, the blonde finds herself checking the time in a frantically impatient manner. Eventually, she shuts down her computer and starts gathering her belongings - deciding that being a little early won't hurt anyone.

* * *

_"Fancy seeing you here," Piper says, stepping onto the train and settling into an empty space._

_"Piper," Alex's head rises from the screen of her phone in her hand, "hi," she smiles, placing the device into her pocket._

_"Am I interrupting something?" the blonde asks, wondering whether the woman next to her was doing something important considering her focus was previously transfixed on whatever she had been reading._

_"Of course not," Alex's eyebrows lightly rise. "Just catching up on the news."_

_"Anything in particular catching your eye?" Piper asks, only aware of what her words insinuated after they came out of her mouth._

_"There was something on rising fuel prices," the brunette responds through a smirk, indicating to the blonde that she was well aware of her choice of wording._

_The rest of the journey consisted of light conversation about what their plans for the working day were, and by the time they reached Alex's stop, it was evident that both women didn't want their time together to end._

_The train begins to quickly empty out as a large crowd in their carriage begins exiting; Alex waits until the end of the line before herself making her way towards the platform._

_"So I'll call you later?" she voices to the blonde who follows her towards the doors._

_"I'd like that," Piper replies, too stepping off the train and onto the platform._

_"What're you doing?" Alex asks as she stands by the wall of the now empty part of the platform. "This isn't your stop."_

_Smiling at the taller woman's confusion, Piper places both of her hands onto the brunette's cheeks and pulls her into a kiss. It's something Alex wasn't expecting - not at this time of the day, but gladly welcomes - immediately returning the sentiment._

_Eventually, Piper pulls away, smiling at the stunned look on the other woman's face before her._

_"I had to make a detour. You know, for research purposes."_

_"Ah, so you're using me to collect data," Alex chuckles, leaning her head back. "I would love to stay, but I can't be late."_

_"Well my train is in," Piper begins, craning her neck to the side to look at the electronic board, "5 minutes, so you're good to go."_

_"I can't believe you got off the train to do that," Alex laughs, finding the blonde's pleased expression particularly entertaining._

_"Neither can I," Piper too laughs. "Worth it though."_

_"Most definitely." _

* * *

Entering the large, glass building, Piper is greeted by one of Alex's colleagues on reception and let through the electric key-card access doors. Getting into the lift and selecting the top floor, the blonde takes her phone out to see if she's missed anything from her subway ride over, and once the doors eventually open, she walks along the office space, briefly greeting some of the people she's been previously acquainted with.

Her girlfriend's office is located towards the back of the large floor space, and upon reaching the door, seeing that it's closed while all of those around it are open, she guesses that the brunette is either busy or in a not so great mood. Knocking firmly, the sound of Alex's voice returning a "just a minute" causes Piper to smile. Deciding to go forward with her plan, she turns the door handle, trying to not laugh at her girlfriend repeating her call for another few minutes of privacy, and peaks her head around the opened gap.

"I'll be quick, but I can come back later if you want me to?" she asks, smirking at the look of surprise on the brunette's face, who rises her focus from where she had been writing something frantically into a notebook resting on her desk.

"Piper," she responds, putting down her pen and pushing her chair back so she can move to her feet. "What're you doing here? You have a meeting."

"I _had_ a meeting," the blonde says, choosing to omit the fact that she hadn't even attended it in the first place. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised," Alex smiles, walking round to the other side of her desk.

"Are you nearly done?" Piper asks, taking further steps towards the taller woman, causing her to perch onto the edge of the desk.

"Just about," Alex smiles, adjusting her seating position to allow the blonde to stand between her legs. "But I get the impression you aren't going to let me finish."

"I don't know about that," Piper comments, placing her hands on her girlfriend's thighs before sliding them upwards so that her fingers land on the top button of her grey trousers. "I can help you finish if you want," she adds flirtatiously.

"Pipes," the brunette chuckles, moving her own hands on top of the ones attempting to open her trousers. "I'm at work," she says out of explanation, hoping her point is coming across despite how tempting the offer seems.

"That hasn't stopped us before," the blonde leans forward, whispering into the seated woman's ear.

"Someone will walk in," Alex tries to argue, moving her hands up to her girlfriend's forearms.

"Why can't I-" the blonde says out of frustration as her fingers continue their battle with the button on Alex's trousers that doesn't seem to want to budge.

"Smooth, babe," the brunette responds, laughing when the blonde eventually pulls her hands away and gives up the idea.

"Shut up."

Just as she goes to further tease her girlfriend, Alex's office door swings open.

"Sorry, I didn't realise you had company," one of the brunette's colleagues voices - sounding somewhat embarrassed - before holding out their hand. "I'll leave this here for you," the man says, dropping a booklet onto a nearby chair and abruptly leaving with the door closing behind him.

"Told you," Alex announces after a brief period of silence.

"Shut up," Piper repeats, moving away from the desk - a sign for the brunette to follow along after her.

* * *

_"What're you doing?" Piper asks, turning to the side to observe the woman sitting in the passenger seat of her car, fingers fiddling with the zip of her coat._

_"Hmm?" the brunette raises her head, trying hard to not look suspicious._

_Piper smiles while holding a hand out for her girlfriend to grab as they patiently wait at a red light._

_"Stop worrying."_

_"I'm not worrying," Alex tries to defend herself, but given the look she's currently being given, she eventually relents. "I'm just nervous. I know how much your brother means to you. I want to make a good impression."_

_"Al, he's heard all about you. He'll love you." _

_The brunette doesn't offer a response, instead choosing to watch outside the window as the car begins to start moving again, letting the sound of the radio playing provide the only source of sound._

_Roughly 20 minutes later, Piper parks the car up outside her brother's house. Alex doesn't notice._

_"Not as much as I do though," the blonde says into the silence._

_"What?" Alex asks, not understanding the context of whatever her girlfriend is saying._

_"While I'm sure my brother and his family will be the latest members to fall for your charm, they won't love you as much as I do."_

_"They won't?" the brunette adjusts her glasses, unsure what quite to say. "That is a relief though," she begins, causing Piper's stomach to drop in fear, "because there's only one Chapman I'd want to love me back the same way."_

_At this, the blonde lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding and leans over to connect their lips._

_"I thought you weren't going to say it back."_

_"Well, technically speaking you never said it in the first place."_

_"I love you, Alex," the blonde announces, a light blush appearing on her cheeks._

_"I love you too, Piper Chapman," the brunette smiles, having not expected such an exchange to take place in her counterpart's car._

_By the time they force themselves off one another and get out the car, the couple walk hand in hand up the path._

_"That was really gay of you back there," Alex comments, trying not to laugh as she awaits a response._

_"Are you serious?" Piper voices with raised eyebrows, a light smile growing on her lips._

_"What? Just saying what I saw," the brunette smiles, gripping tighter on her girlfriend's hand._

_"You're lucky it's you I'm really gay for otherwise we'd have some problems."_

_The opening of the front door at the end of the path breaks up their conversation, and while she was nervous before, Alex soon feels her fears dissipate. _

* * *

"Piper-" Alex whispers as they enter their apartment.

The surrounding is abnormally pitch black, yet the blonde grabs the taller woman by the hand and carefully walks her through their living space. The kitchen-dining area is easy to find given its open-planned fashion, but once they reach the dining table, Piper breaks their hand connection.

"Trust me," she says, just about managing to make out Alex's confused facial expression in the dark.

The blonde reaches onto the table and soon enough, the sound and sight of a lit match creates some form of light which spreads as soon as the candles on the table are lit.

"What is this?" Alex asks as the light reveals two covered plates of food and two wine glasses.

"It's our second anniversary, Alex, I wanted to do something special for you."

"How did you even manage this?" the brunette asks, looking up. "You've been at work all morning."

"I may have recruited an assistant," Piper smiles, moving to pull a chair back for her girlfriend.

"You even cooked?" Alex asks, knowing the blonde has a history when it comes to working in the kitchen.

"I left it in the oven this morning and gave Cal some very specific instructions when we left," she admits, chuckling at Alex's amused facial expression.

"I love it, Pipes," she smiles after eventually helping Alex get into her chair and moving to sit down in the one opposite.

"White or rosé?"

"Whatever you're having," Alex smiles, unable to contain her happiness as she watches Piper scramble up in the dark to make her way over to the fridge. "You can just turn on a light you know."

"I want it to be romantic," the blonde responds, opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of wine.

"Piper, the thought alone is romantic."

"Okay," she smiles, moving over to the light switch and using the slider on the wall to create a dim atmosphere over by the table.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, the couple bask in one another's company, up until the point in which they end up in a tangled mess underneath the covers.

"It's not cute when your forehead sweat drips on me like that," Piper says from her position below the brunette, using her thumb to wipe away any further droplets threatening to land her way.

"I'll remind you of that next time you're on top," Alex laughs, moving to lie down on her side next to the blonde.

"Maybe let me on top and we'll test out that theory."

"Alright smartass," the brunette rolls her eyes jokingly.

"I have something to give you," Piper voices, reluctantly moving from her position in the bed to a nearby drawer. "Here you go."

"A book?" Alex questions, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Not just any book. Open it."

"Is this what I think it is?" the brunette asks, trying to figure out the book's content considering it's front and back cover are a plain back colour.

Piper offers nothing but a smile as she watches her girlfriend try and figure out what's inside.

"I didn't realise you finished!" her face eventually lights up as if the penny suddenly drops.

"Well, I wouldn't say it's entirely finished, but you're the first to get your hands on this demo version."

"This is fucking amazing, Piper!"

"Writing an autobiography wasn't something I thought people would want from me."

"I'm so happy for you," Alex smiles, leaning over to kiss the blonde as she moves back into bed and sits next to her.

"Open it."

"You want me to read it now?" the brunette leans over to put on her glasses. .

"Come on, you know what I mean," Piper smirks, hoping her girlfriend can read her mind. "I'll give you a clue," she continues, leaning closer to whisper into the other woman's ear.

"We were doing it roughly an hour ago."

Alex nods slowly and turns to the specific page number, starting to read the words aloud.

'_As for Alex. It took me over 8 months to introduce myself, and even then it was her who made the first move. Three weeks later she became my girlfriend; a month after, I told her I loved her for the first time; a year later, we moved in together, and on our second anniversary, I asked her to marry me_.'

With her head shooting to the side, Alex's mouth hangs open.

"I didn't want it to be predictable," Piper says, taking a ring off her finger that she had put in place while collecting the book. "But, Alex," she pauses, letting out a deep breath to control herself. "These last two years have been anything but that. Meeting you was… is… the greatest thing to have happened to me, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So," she lets out another breath, tears slowly filling her eyes. "Alex Vause, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Piper, I-," she drops the book in her hand and twists her body. "Of course I'll marry you."

"You will?" the blonde laughs, tears dropping down her cheeks.

"I just said yes, didn't I?" Alex smiles, being pulled in for a kiss by the blonde's hands that now rest either side of her face.

"I can't believe you proposed," the brunette continues, too wiping the display of emotion from her own eyes. "And page 69. Really?" she laughs.

"I thought you'd like that part."

"I loved it. And I love you."

"I love you too," Piper smiles, helping Alex put on her ring before following her into a lying down position.

"At least we both have the day off tomorrow," the brunette voices, wrapping her arm around the blonde's naked body.

"Hmm, who wouldn't want to spend their morning on a packed train?"

"I'd do it everyday all over again if it meant bumping into you," Alex explained.

"That's pretty gay of you," Piper voices, knowing her now fiancée will remember the last time such a phrase was used.

"That's fine with me," Alex laughs - kissing the blonde's jaw, thankful that her travels led her to this very moment.

* * *

**I know, it's about time I finished this. **

**Thanks for all the kind comments. Writing with no dialogue for the majority of the time was challenging, but I wanted to produce something different from what is deemed to be the 'ordinary'. **

**I can't see myself ever starting anything new, so look out for any random updates on my other work. **


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